


time doesn't hold you back

by shuuuliet



Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, also i am obsessed with shawn being soft so obviously i wrote about it, an evening with mr. yang, angsty angsty angsty shawn, but angst pining, but it will all wrap up so nicely i promise, i've never written shawn's perspective before so be gentle with me, it's a change from my usual pining jules but like same vibe + happy ending this time, mr. yin presents, obviously it's pining, obviously shules because i will never stop writing them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25256245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuuuliet/pseuds/shuuuliet
Summary: Two times Shawn lets Juliet down, and one time he doesn't.Chapter one is set during "An Evening with Mr. Yang", and two and three take place during and after "Mr. Yin Presents...".
Relationships: Abigail Lytar/Shawn Spencer, Juliet O'Hara & Shawn Spencer, Juliet O'Hara/Shawn Spencer
Comments: 23
Kudos: 33





	1. into silent water

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Psych isn't mine, and neither are Shawn and Jules.

_"You may say to yourself, 'my God, what have I done'?"_

Shawn’s head is spinning. That’s not surprising. His head is usually spinning on cases, but usually that’s because he’s looking for clues and flirting with Jules and trying to convince Gus to spring for jerk chicken and bothering Lassie and thinking about what insight his dad might have on the case and watching a rerun of _Phineas and Ferb_ in his mind, all at the same time. It’s like a hamster wheel in his head, sometimes, going and going and going and never really stopping, sometimes even making that incessant squeaking noise like the wheel he had for his hamster, Sloth, (named for the guy from _The Goonies_ , of course, that hamster really was astonishingly hideous) when he was nine.

Today, the hamster wheel is going like always, and it’s squeaking like crazy. But the squeak is more like an alarm, an incessant beeping, like the one Gus sets and puts right next to his ear when he falls asleep in the Psych office in the middle of the day, or like…well, like those stopwatches he’s been listening to all day. It’s just _there_ , the alarm in his mind, blaring behind everything, but especially right now.

He’s looking at them, at Lassie and Mary—friggin’ Mary, if only he really _were_ Yang, that would’ve made things so much easier—and Jules. _Jules_. He knows his panic is written all over his face, but he doesn’t care. He’s terrified.

And then the plan is unfolding in his mind, developing even as he replays all the clues in his head, one of many trains of thought on the hamster wheel. He tries to arrange his expression so it looks less like fear and more like confident exasperation.

He’s not sure if it works. But the plan is already in motion.

Shawn is going to betray them. Well, he’s not, not _really_ , if all goes well, but it’s going to look very much like a betrayal, and if he weren’t about to let Gus in on it, it would take about three seconds for Gus’ Super Sniffer to smell the betrayal.

It looks like betrayal and it smells like betrayal, but it’s not. Not _really_. Or at least that’s what he’s telling himself.

It’s not that he’s not a loyal guy, it’s just that he gets distracted. His mind races sometimes, and it makes it hard to focus on anything. Sometimes that results in disloyalty, though usually it’s disloyalty to a particular task more than a person.

Today, though, it’s disloyalty to a person. Er, to a group of people, but Shawn is focused on one. It’s strange how he has so much trouble focusing, until her. Shawn never struggles to focus on her.

Juliet is extremely loyal. Not in obvious ways; it’s sort of a gentle encouragement that appears in her big blue eyes, pushing you onwards whether you’re deserving of her support or not. It’s an unspoken security—she has your back. She trusts you. Somehow, it makes you know, just _know_ , that you won’t, that you _can’t,_ let her down, even though she would still be there, inexplicably, if you did. Or at least, that’s how it feels to Shawn. He can feel her trust in him almost tangibly sometimes, like a big fuzzy blanket tucked around his shoulders. It pulls him closer to her like a magnet while simultaneously keeping him from ever getting quite as close as he’d like to. And it terrifies him more than anything else, because she trusts him, and even as he lets her, he knows she _can’t_ trust him. He _will_ let her down, and it will break her heart as surely as it breaks his, and the weight of knowing that, the thought of watching that encouragement die in her eyes, is killing him. It matters more to him than anything ever has in his life. But her eyes see none of that, they just lend her quiet support.

And perhaps it is this loyalty, more than anything else, that made him fall for her.

But he can’t think about that right now. He can’t think about anything right now, because his mind is moving too fast and his mouth is moving too fast and he is watching that support leave her eyes, watching himself kill it. She goes pale, her eyes flashing at him fiercely in a way they never have before, and he feels like his own cruelty is strangling him.

And the rest of the voices in his head are silent for a second, because suddenly the only thing he’s paying any attention to is the fact that she is disappointed in him and he is mocking her.

He is _mocking_ her. And it’s a lie and he knows it, but as he spits the words at her, that maybe the next time _she_ gets threatened, she can pick up her pom-poms and go for it all day long, he can see that she believes him.

She _always_ believes him.

Usually this belief in him is what he holds onto; when his dad isn’t proud of him, when Gus thinks he’s being ridiculous, when Lassie won’t even look at him, Jules always, always believes in him. He relies on that more than he realized, until now.

But she still believes him, and because she always believes him, he is hurting her. He knew he would, someday, but he didn’t know how much doing so would break him. He watches the light and joy that are always in her eyes when she looks at him fade, and with it, her trust, her pride in him. He watches his hurtful words land, their impact as visible on her face as if he’d slapped her.

And even though he knows he has to lie right now, that it’s the only way to get some space to solve the case, and even to keep _her_ —and everyone else—safe, he hates seeing that loyalty gone from her eyes, replaced by fear and shock and disappointment.

He hates that he’s the one who put them there.

So he turns away, where those eyes that usually look at him so generously can’t reach him. But even as he does so, he knows his memory will never let him rest, will never let this new expression on her face stop haunting him.

He doesn't watch her go. He doesn't have to. That look on her face was enough to make whatever Yang has coming for him feel like child's play. And if he stopped to watch her go, he'd surely call her back. And none of them have time--not now. Not when Yang's stopwatch is already winding down.

So he turns to Gus, takes a deep breath, and the wheel starts moving again.


	2. into the blue again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, Psych, Shawn, Jules, and Abigail aren't mine. 
> 
> And once again, the chapter title, story title, and quote at the beginning of the chapter all come from "Once in a Lifetime" (1981) by the Talking Heads, which is actually kind of hilarious because the tone of that song and the tone of this story are not even the slightest bit similar, but oh well. 
> 
> Please see end notes as well!

_“You may ask yourself, am I right? Am I wrong?”_

It’s been a year.

It’s been a year, and he hasn’t stopped thinking about that look on Juliet’s face.

Oh, sure, he’s moved on. Or he’s tried to, with Abigail. But she went to Uganda and he didn’t even consider going with her, hardly even entertained the idea of visiting, and not just because he’s still not totally sure where Uganda even is, not to mention the lack of toilets thing. He tries not to think about it, but he has the feeling that if Juliet was leaving, he’d follow her wherever she went. Well, maybe not to Uganda. Or maybe he _would_ go to Uganda, provided he could pack Gus in a suitcase and bring him along, obviously. Jules would probably _let_ him stuff Gus into a suitcase, too. Gus might be the harder sell, but still. If Juliet was leaving, he’d pack Gus up and they’d go with her, and he wouldn’t go with Abigail, and deep, deep down, he knows that’s something he should pay attention to, but he won’t.

Anyway.

It’s been a year. It’s been a year, and he can still see that moment that he let Juliet down. Of course, he knows now that that was only the first time that _day_ that he would let her down, and maybe it’s why he turned her down at the drive-in, too. Abigail is a convenient excuse—the one that got away, like Jules said, giving him an out he wishes every day he hadn’t taken--but really it was remembering the look in Juliet’s eyes when he had yelled at her earlier that day that made him realize he couldn’t go out with Jules. Abigail aside, he could never risk hurting Juliet the way he already had, no matter how badly he wanted to be with her.

And he _did_ want to, really badly. Maybe more than he’d ever wanted anything before.

Okay, definitely more than he’d ever wanted anything before.

And that’s why he’d given her that desperate apology as she turned to walk away from him, to leave him to his popcorn and Necco wafers and Abigail and, unknowingly, his broken heart.

“I know,” she’d said gently, when he apologized for snapping at her.

But she hadn’t known, not really. She couldn’t have known how desperately sorry he was, for not just the snapping but for the realization that he was always going to hurt her and that he couldn’t ever risk being with her, couldn’t risk breaking the person he cared about most.

And he does care about her most, he knows that now.

But most of all he was apologizing for that look on her face, that look that still haunts him a year later. She said she knew, but she didn’t. She couldn’t have known he still thinks about that look, that his stupid memory won’t let him forget it, every time he’s tempted to just say screw it and finally appease the voice inside him that says that Jules is his future. It was that look that gave him pause when he tried to tell her how he felt that day that she almost got Thornburg.

And it is that look that haunts him today, as he realizes he’s about to let her down for the second time, only this time, if he does, it may be the very last thing that happens to her.

Juliet shouted at him on the phone to save Abigail. And she means that, he knows it. Abigail is a civilian, he has to save her, and Juliet would never forgive him if he didn’t. He has to save Abigail. But if it’s a choice Yin wants, he chooses Jules. He will always choose Jules.

But he’s not being given a choice. Not really. He knows it, and he prays Juliet does too. The choice to save Abigail isn’t really a choice at all—it’s a duty. It’s not like Abigail is expendable, or like she doesn’t matter to him; of _course_ she matters, and he hates himself for even thinking for one second about not going to save her. It’s just that the world will stop spinning if Jules isn’t in it and he can’t let that happen. As it is, he’s been unable to breathe since she disappeared.

But there’s no time; there’s never enough _time_. His mind is racing but a plan isn’t forming; all he can hear is the fear in Juliet’s voice and all he can think of is that look on her face a year ago. He swore he’d never let that look appear on her face again. But he could hear that look in her voice on the phone.

Once again, he needs Gus to save the day. Gus saved him last time, let him focus by making an absolute fool of himself, but that’s not what he needs now. He needs Gus to go to Juliet, the way he did when Jules was sick—well, not really sick, more like presumed sick, but it felt the same—in the hospital. The only way he can not be there for Jules himself is if he leaves her in those glorious, sometimes—okay, _often_ \-- Dorito-dusted hands that have had his back for thirty years. Those hands will take care of Jules, or at least keep her holding on until he can get there. He wouldn’t trust anyone but Gus with this. It’s too important. She means way too much to him.

So he sends Gus to Juliet and he goes to Abigail, and the race against time almost lets him ignore the fact that everything in him wants to be there with Gus. Once he and his dad get to the pier, adrenaline kicks in, and that helps. Yin is there—oh my God, he can’t even process that Yin is there and he was so close—and before he can even have another thought, he’s jumping in the water, desperate to reach Abigail while he still can.

He manages to push Jules out of his mind for a few minutes as he and his dad frantically try and beat the tide and free Abigail, like Juliet had told him to do. Concentrating on Abigail helps; it’s something he can do, one single event of the evening that he has a chance of not failing at. He encourages her to concentrate on her breathing as he tries to free her, trying his best to follow his own advice.

Finally, _finally_ , they cut the last rope, and the three of them rise to the surface. He’s never felt so much relief while still feeling so damn terrified.

It’s harder to focus on Abigail once she’s been cut free. He wants to; he was so scared for Abigail, despite the disloyalty to her that he’s been fighting all day, but the second he knows for sure that Abigail is okay, Juliet’s face appears in his mind again.

Abigail is okay, he tells himself, trying desperately to help his brain catch up to what is happening. Abigail is okay, and that’s important. Even if he has let Abigail down all day by only thinking about Jules, in the end, he saved her, and that _matters_. But his brain won’t stop thinking about the fact that Abigail was only one of the two women he let down today, and much as he’s trying to keep thoughts of the other at bay, it’s a losing battle.

While the medic checks out Abigail, he tries to keep himself from falling apart. There’s no news from Gus, and he’s more terrified than he’s ever been in his life that he hasn’t heard anything yet. Frantically, he dials Gus’ number.

Gus tells him Juliet’s okay, and he’s thanking God, but her face appears in his mind again, wide-eyed and desperate and afraid. He knows he’s let her down again, even though he’d promised himself he wouldn’t let that happen. Gus is there, and if he couldn’t be with her himself, Gus was the best person he could have sent. He knows that. Gus is there, and Lassie is there, and he trusts both of them to take care of her, of course.

But he wasn’t there.

And for the second time, he’s turned away from her when she trusted him. She’s alive and she’s okay and he swears he will spend the rest of his life being grateful for that, but he still let her down, still couldn’t show up for her.

And he may not really be able to see into the future, but he knows one thing for certain—he will not let that happen again. He will make this up to her. He will make it right. He _has_ to.

He wants nothing more than to go to Juliet, right then, right that second, and make sure for himself that what Gus said was true, that she’s really okay, but he can’t just walk away from Abigail, not right then. And suddenly, it dawns on him: he can’t keep failing people. His duty is to stay there with Abigail. His duty is to ignore everything in him that is screaming out for Juliet. His duty is to keep pushing away that memory of her fear, just to punish himself a little further for letting it happen again.

So he makes a decision. All Yin wanted was a decision, after all, and now he has one. Juliet matters to him, more than Abigail, he knows that, and maybe that’s not going to change, maybe he can’t help that. But if he’s never going to let Juliet down again, he has no other choice but to turn his back on her. It’s the only way to protect her, the only way to ensure that Yin will never again threaten Juliet like he did tonight.

That’s it. It’s the only way. He has to choose Abigail. Choosing Abigail is the only way to also choose Jules. So what if it’s his sleep-deprived, adrenaline-jacked brain talking, if the choice to commit, to be with Abigail means that his mistakes will never put Juliet in harm’s way again, then this is how it has to be.

So he goes to Abigail, tells her the first thing he can think of—something about the poetic meaning of the pier, from the beginning of their story thirteen years ago until now, tells her he’s willing to learn to compromise, that he’s going to do this right, and he almost fools himself into thinking that this could work, that he’s not being totally unfair to Abigail and to himself by suggesting it. He even kisses her, pleads with her a little, and it almost works, it’s so close to working, he’s convincing himself this is right, he’s finally doing the right thing for _once_.

But then, as the sun comes up, Abigail breaks things off. It’s not a total surprise--who _wouldn’t_ walk away after the events of the night?--but he wants it to hurt more than it does. He wants to not feel relief at her decision. He fails. He knows he let Abigail down almost as much as Jules, even if Abigail isn’t totally aware of that fact.

He tells Abigail he’s sorry, just before she turns to walk away, and for the second time, he’s flooded with the realization of how inadequate the words “I’m sorry” are for the mistakes that he’s made. He can’t fix what he’s done to Abigail, can’t fix that what he felt for her just wasn’t enough, can’t take away the danger and trauma he put her through tonight.

She walks away, and once again, all he can see is Jules. He’s out of time with Abigail—thankfully, not literally, an important clarification to make to himself after tonight’s events—but Abigail’s never going to turn around again, and maybe that’s the real poetry of tonight.

And suddenly, it all clicks, the pieces coming together in his mind the way they always do when he solves a case. Maybe he was never going to be able to make his internal betrayal up to Abigail. And maybe it wasn’t even the right thing to try; maybe he was just trying to make himself feel better. His epiphany was correct, but he came to the wrong conclusion.

He can’t keep failing people. For the first time, he _forces himself_ to recall that look on Juliet’s face, a year ago, when this all began. His racing mind begins to clear again, for once. He hasn’t been able to get that look out of his head all year, and it’s kept him from ever getting close enough to Jules to really apologize, to take back what he said, to prove to her that he will never let her down again.

It’s too late to stop himself from letting her down again, he understands that. But the thing about not really being psychic is that he’s forgotten to consider the future. The future where there’s still a chance to show up for Jules, every day, make this right, try and mend all the things he’s broken.

And he’s almost making the same mistake again. His nearly fatal mistake _last time_ was thinking that pushing her away would solve this, keep her out of danger. Obviously, that worked about as well as Lassie’s barber’s attempts to make his ears stick out less. And he almost had himself convinced to make that mistake again.

But not anymore.

It was the wrong conclusion, but time hasn’t run out like he feared. There’s still time to act on the right one.

Suddenly, the path before him is as clear as if he really _were_ psychic. He will never let that mistake be made again—the Jules thing, not the Lassie’s barber thing, he has too much fun with that--and this time, no memory, no serial killer, no amount of inadequate apologies is going to stop him from reaching her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It felt weird to try and put some of Shawn’s humor into a “serious Shawn” piece, but I tried to put it in the moments when he’s thinking about Jules, who helps him be most himself. I thought the humor popping in only when he’s realizing how important she is to him kind of grounds him a little bit, solidifies that Jules is his soulmate. 
> 
> I have no idea if that worked or came through or if I’m just telling myself it did so I can stop looking at this chapter that frustrated the hell out of me. Your thoughts are more than welcome. :)


	3. once in a lifetime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I STILL don't own Psych, or any of these characters. 
> 
> Once again, the chapter titles, quotes at the beginning, and title of the story are from "Once in a Lifetime" (1981) by the Talking Heads, which again, is not even a little bit similar to the tone of the story, but it's my favorite Talking Heads song and it's been stuck in my head for WEEKS, so whatevs.

_“time isn’t holding up, time isn’t after us”_

Shawn couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat still for so long. He’d parked himself across the street from Juliet’s house, sitting in the shadow of a tree, where he could see her house but not be noticed himself. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, but dawn was turning steadily into morning now, and he still lacked the courage to actually go up to the house.

He’d watched Lassie pull up to her house, try and help Jules out of the car, but she’d pushed him away. Not rudely, just in a way that indicated she was trying to show she was fine, that she didn’t need help. Even from his position tucked away across the street, Shawn could see on her face that that was a lie.

Her face alone, even from a distance, made him almost fall to his knees. She’d been through so much last night, more than anyone should ever have to go through, and it was his fault. Maybe he was better off not going to her, maybe he would just make things worse.

He sat there for a while longer, trying to remember why, on the pier, going to see her had felt like such a good idea, and just when he was considering calling Gus, trying to take his mind off things, his phone rang.

Fishing it out of his pocket without checking it, he answered, “Buddy!”

“Spencer,” a distinctly-non-Gus voice said.

“Lassie?”

“I’m at O’Hara’s,” Lassiter said. “I think I need backup.”

“Oh, my God!” Shawn said, jumping to his feet, his mind already racing in panic. He’d been right there in front of her house the whole time, how had he missed something? “Is Yin--?”

“No, you idiot, not _backup_ backup, you’re not even a cop, why would I be calling you for that?” Shawn could practically hear Lassiter rolling his eyes.

“Right, _I’m_ the crazy one,” Shawn muttered. “So she’s safe?” He needed to confirm before figuring out why the heck Lassie was calling him.

“She’s not hurt. It’s just…she’s—she’s not talking. She said she was fine, and then she was crying, and that was hours ago, and since then she hasn’t said _anything_.”

Shawn tried to stop himself from grinning. “Lassie, are you asking for my help?”

“No, I--!” Lassie sighed. “Yes. I think—I think she might talk to you.”

“I’ll be right there,” Shawn said. “But Lassie, I’m gonna remember this.”

“Just get over here,” Lassie growled.

“Two minutes, Lass.” Shawn answered. Lassiter hung up.

He didn’t _need_ the two minutes, obviously, he was outside Jules’ house already, but two minutes was good. It was two minutes to breathe, while it also gave him a deadline to finally force him to confront his mistakes.

Counting the seconds in his head, Shawn finally stood up, jogging toward the house. Lassie opened the door as he approached, and Shawn took a moment to enjoy what would probably be the only time Lassie would ever look relieved to see him.

“She’s taking a shower,” Lassiter said quietly as he let Shawn in. “I thought she’d feel better getting out of those clothes—.”

“Raunchy,” Shawn said, smirking at him.

Lassiter glared. “Can it, Spencer. Look, the Chief just called and I have to get back to the station, get some paperwork done on the Yin thing, but I couldn’t just leave her here. And she’s not talking, but you—you might have a way of…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but Shawn nods. “I won’t leave her.” He promised. And he wouldn’t.

Lassie simply nods, claps Shawn on the shoulder, and leaves. Shawn almost laughs. Clearly everyone is unbelievably sleep-deprived; he wonders how much of who they are at this moment will last until tomorrow—a supportive Lassie, a quiet Jules, and him, guilty, and afraid, and…well, in love. That part will probably last, although he’s got a lot of explaining to do to Jules before he even gets to any of that. The guilt, unfortunately, will probably last quite a while longer too, if the last year has been any indication, even if Jules does forgive him.

Moments later, Juliet emerges from the bathroom, wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt, her soft curls wet around her shoulders. Her face looks puffy, like she’d been crying but tried to hide it.

She still takes Shawn’s breath away.

“Shawn?” she asks, surprised.

Shawn nodded, “that or Lassie got way hotter in the last ten minutes.”

Juliet doesn’t laugh, but her lip twitches, an almost-smile. “Where’d Carlton go?”

“He had to go back to the station.”

She brushes past him, towards the kitchen. “Well,” she says, in a very un-Jules tone, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Shawn turns toward her at the unfamiliar sound of her voice. She’s looking at him, trying to look defiant, but her eyes are welling up and her lip is trembling. Without pausing to think, he opens his arms and pulls her into his chest. She doesn’t resist, melting into him and burying her head against his chest.

She cries softly into him, and Shawn holds her as tight as he can, as reverently as he can, not caring about anything except being as close to her as possible, letting her feel safe and warm and loved, because Lord knows she deserves it, even if she hadn’t been to hell and back last night.

He kisses the top of her head, because her head is buried in his chest and he _can_ , for once, but also because he has no idea how long she’ll let him hold her, and if this is once in a lifetime, that he gets to be here, holding Jules, then he’s not gonna _not_ kiss her on top of the head and try and infuse into that kiss every desperate rush of love he’s felt for her over the last four years.

But he knows, as he stands there, holding her, that it’s not enough. He has to say something, has to impress upon her, somehow, how sorry he is for everything he’s done and how important she is to him.

“Jules,” he says, softly. She makes no response. He takes a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. I don’t—I don’t have the words to say how sorry I am. I was so terrified today, and Yin wanted to mess with me, you should never have been involved.”

He pauses, trying to breathe. “And I should have been there.” He continues. That was the worst of it. “I should have been there, and I wasn’t, and I know you probably think that I chose Abigail, but I didn’t. Going to Abigail was the only way that I believed you both could live. But if I… if I could’ve chosen it would’ve always been you.”

Juliet makes a non-committal noise, pulling back a little and tilting her head so she’s looking at him, listening, her eyes still full of tears.

“Abigail and I broke up,” he says, and he’s not sure why this seems like the right next thing to say, but it does. “Oh, God, not that it matters, right now, not with all you’ve gone through tonight and I don’t know why I’m even telling you this—.”

Juliet’s lip twitches, a half smile. “It matters,” she whispers, looking up at him.

“It does?”

She nods, smiling softly again, but says nothing else, folding back into him, as he tightens his arms around her again.

He doesn’t know how long they stand there. It doesn’t matter. He closes his eyes, resting his head on top of hers, taking in the feel of her in his arms. Finally, he speaks again, “Um, should we—do you want to sit down?”

A muffled chuckle comes in response, but Juliet lets him lead her to the couch, where they end up not sitting so much as half laying, curled up into one another. Shawn feels more at peace than he has in a long time. It’s not that he’s said everything he needs, or wants, to say—he hasn’t. But he’s content to just keep holding onto her, every second that she lets him this close a gift, the kind he’d never imagined he’d be allowed, especially after that day last year.

Long minutes pass, and for once, Shawn has no desire to fill their silence. He keeps his eyes closed, like hers, content to lay there, impossibly close to her, feeling her heartbeat against his, listening to the sound of her breathing, as they both hold still.

Moments pass, and Juliet’s breathing evens out as she falls asleep. Shawn opens his eyes, looking down at her, her mess of blonde curls, the slight blush in her cheeks, her features finally relaxed after the events of the day. Relief washes over him, and he realizes for the millionth time how close he came to losing her, how grateful he is to be here, now, in this moment with her. It doesn’t matter what happens the rest of his life, in this moment, he is certain that he will never see anything more beautiful than Jules asleep in his arms, will never feel more secure or content than he does in this moment.

But the guilt isn’t gone, even though it’s clear from Juliet’s peaceful sleep that he’s made her feel safe, for once. Still, he’s got other things to say to her, even if he’s not sure he’s ready to say them when she’s awake. He still feels a desperate urge to say them, let them out into the universe, if for no other reason than to express the enormous gratitude and love for her he feels right now.

He looks down at her again, presses his lips to her forehead, then to her cheek. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake up, though she seems to smile for a moment in her sleep. He rests his cheek back against the top of her head, closing his own eyes.

“It’s all my fault,” he whispers to her, “and maybe I’ll never stop feeling guilty for that. This last year…it’s all my fault. And I’m so sorry. I know I already said that, but I’m going to keep saying it, because…well, if this is loving someone, no wonder I can’t get it right, with parents like mine, but, I am so sorry for hurting you.” He feels tears start to well up in his own eyes, a mixture of exhaustion and guilt, and a million other emotions that he doesn’t have the energy to name.

“But I’m going to do better,” he continues, whispering still, talking it out for himself as much as for her, “Jules, I am never going to let you down like that again, I promise. Well, I can’t promise, I’m no good at promises, but I will do everything I can.” He sighs. “That sounds lame, I know. It’s not even a promise. But I’ll do the best that I can, I swear.”

Juliet shifts against him slightly but her eyes stay closed, and he looks down at her in gratitude again. “I—I love you,” he whispers to her. “And I don’t, I mean, I’ve never said that to anyone, except my mom maybe, and…well, Gus just _knows_ , but this is…different, and…well, I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m going to be there. I’m not going to walk away again.”

He lets out a deep breath, feeling himself relax. “I kind of wish you were awake for that,” he mutters, “’cause I don’t know if I’ll be able to get it all out again. But I’m glad you’re resting, finally.” He pulls her closer to him, reveling over and over again in the feel of her.

Exhaustion washes over him, suddenly, and he feels close to falling asleep himself. He presses his lips to the top of her head, kissing her gently as he begins to relax. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispers into her hair. “I don’t deserve your goodness or your patience or how you always have my back. But I want to. And I hope you’ll let me try.”

With that, Shawn falls asleep, still pressed against Jules. He hadn’t fixed everything. But she was here, in his arms, finally. They had time. And he would stay here, holding her, as long as she’d let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much to everyone who's reading and giving kudos! It means the world to me. I also love comments almost as much as I love Shawn being soft, so extra special thanks to each of you that have commented! Hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> The quote at the beginning of this chapter, the title of the chapter, and the title of the story are from the song "Once in a Lifetime" by the Talking Heads (1981).


End file.
